Hero of War
by OnceNowThen
Summary: Jane is no hero. Her musings on the subject of heroes while she hits the liqour hard. Loosely based on the Rise Against song. Rizzles


Jane Rizzoli was sure of very few things anymore. She wasn't sure that she deserved the detective's badge that sat on her coffee table. She wasn't sure she wanted it.

There was, however, one thing she was sure of. She was no hero.

"I'll carry this flag, to the grave if I must, 'cause it's a flag that I love, and a flag that I trust," Jane sang along to the radio, sitting on her counter with a bottle of bourbon in her hand. Her voice was sad, and slower than the tune. The words weren't clear or slurred; Jane sung with her mouth mostly closed.

There was no way she was going to that banquet. She was no hero. Let the people of Boston find another scapegoat, somebody who deserved the title, she thought, taking a gulp of bourbon.

Jane forced the mouthful down her throat, shuddering. She was no hero, she thought as she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. Heroes were brave, whereas she often woke up screaming. A hero would find a way around shooting someone, whereas she…

But there was Frankie. And Maura. Were you a hero if you hurt one person to save more? After all, that's what all the heroes did, wasn't it? They went after the bad guys, to save the good ones.

"A hero of war, yeah that's what I'll be," Jane continued to sing softly, still slower than the tune.

A hero wouldn't… oh, God. She tried to stop that thought before it came, but it slammed into her mind, regardless of the brick wall she'd attempted to put up. She gritted her teeth and refused to accept the thought in her head, attempting to chase it away with another gulp of bourbon.

A forced swallow, a gasp at the taste, and though her throat was on fire, the thought still persisted in Jane's mind. She tried to force it away, but eventually gave into it.

_A hero wouldn't love someone who could never love them back._

There. She'd said it. She'd admitted it to herself. Jane sat, defenseless, on her counter. Knuckles white from her grip on the bourbon, tears began to stream down her face.

Goddammit. Alcohol always made the biggest fool out of her, she thought, gulping down more bourbon. Gagging on the taste, she wiped more tears away from her face. Maura would probably come to bother her tomorrow, when she didn't show up. Jane was at the point of drunkenness where she didn't care.

A hero probably wouldn't be doing this, either, Jane mused, taking another gulp from the bottle. She attempted to take too much into her mouth, and ended up spitting out the bourbon all over the kitchen. Great, she thought, just barely making it to the sink to throw up.

If drinking bourbon felt like drinking fire, then vomiting it back up is like drinking flaming acid. However, she wanted something stronger than her usual beer, so she grabbed the half-empty bottle and walked over to the living room couch. She didn't want to sleep on the bed, goddammit, and that was that.

Laying on her side so as not to drown in her own vomit, Jane's thoughts wandered, though she begged them not to. The youngest person and the first female homicide detective, and look where she ended up; degrading everything she stood for. She was as lousy as any corrupt politician, and she'd seen many corrupt politicians. She dared to promote wholesome family values during the day, and came home attempting to drown herself in either alcohol, fear, or her own vomit-she wasn't really sure which, but knew it was probably a combination of the three-and now she was laying like any scumbag in a gutter.

But Jane Rizzoli wasn't just any scumbag.

_No, _she thought. _There are honest scumbags. Ones who don't become attracted to their best friends, or can at least admit it if they do. _

"A hero of war, is that what they see? Just medals and scars, so damn proud of me," Jane sang to herself, though she could no longer hear the radio.

Her voice thick, Jane continued, even slower, "And I carried that flag; now it gathers dust, but it's a flag that I love, it's the only flag I trust."

Hot tears rolled down her cheeks as she attempted not to sob. Though she succeeded in not making any sound, her body still shook with silent sobs. She was no hero.

_He said, son, have you seen the world? And what would you say, if I told you 'you could?'_

* * *

><p>The song is called 'Hero of War,' and it's by Rise Against. I would strongly recommend watching the music video on You Tube. I nearly cried the first time I saw it.<p> 


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